West of Treno... West of Our Hearts
by Turkish
Summary: Before the heroes had to save Gaia from the evil Kuja, Oeilvert was a busy city. The continent was thriving. This is a tale of the men of Oeilvert. The land that stood west of other culture. A Spaghetti Western story in a midieval land. *Updated*
1. Author's Note

Author's Note-  
  
Geography- Those who are reading this have most likely played the game Final Fantasy IX. Thus you already know of the four continents. This story takes place long before the events in the game and those additional three that were originally deserted actually have many inhabitants. The western continent is what this story has a lot to do with. The city of Oeilvert and etcetera. The Northwestern continent is mentioned in my story in the later chapters but really has nothing to do with this particular tale and neither does the Northeastern which is not even mentioned in this story.  
  
Weapons- This story relies heavily on the invention of firearms in the western continent. These were specially made on that continent and nowhere else. Only a few people are in positions of firearms also. They are primarily revolvers. They use gunpowder technology called "charges". These are small loops of six connected, inch and a half thick cylinders that hold gunpowder. When the chamber is out of the gun the loop detaches and allows you to load ammunition while when the chamber is put into place the charges attach to the chamber and one charge is given to each bullet. The hammer is pulled back and then released and ignites the powder thus using one cylinder for one bullet. The loops rotate along with the chamber. Each time to reload one must change the charge too.  
  
A bit about characters from the game- Characters in the game play a minor part in this story. Needless to say not all of them will really be taking a part. The older characters may make appearances however. The only one I can guarantee is Amarant as he is crucial later on. I know many do not feel Amarant is the best character but something about him made him go along with the story best.  
  
Please excuse my long windedness… Now onto the tale… 


	2. The Stranger

1 West of Treno…  
  
2 West of Our Hearts  
  
Chapter 1- The Stranger  
  
This was back in the time when the western continent was thriving. Before massive monsters and prophecies of apocalypse. Before heroes had to risk life and limb to save it from a powerful tyrant. Before the great kingdom of Lindblum fell and the massive castle of Alexandria turned dark. Yes my friends this is not a tale of these things. This is a tale of something but a spec in Gaia's history as compared to these deeds. Nay, this is not even a spec. It is miniscule. It is insignificant. However the heroes of our past at this time… were the heroes yet to be…  
  
Oeilvert was not always overrun by monsters and evil. Once it was quite a thriving castle. Surrounded by mountains and hidden from the winds. It was a nice place. Likewise this continent was not always desolate. Why, right in front of the castle Oeilvert was a town going by the same name. It was small compared to some of the larger cities on the continent. It got quite a bit of trade and people, however. There were many wishing to pay their respects to the lord of Oeilvert castle. There were many hoping to use the Oeilvertian Chocobo's to carry goods to the rest of the continent. You see, Oeilvert was crucial. In this town lived a numerous amount of cutthroats, thieves, scoundrels and etcetera. It was just like any other town in that respect. All towns had men in the shadows. The town had dreamers, too. Those who slept at night and dreamt of other places far across the sea. Far over the horizon laid the stuff that dreams were made of. Many were determined to have it. Others were quite content. This was a world of depressed loners and happy families. It was not unusual. It was home to many and distant to none. Oeilvert was just a name given to a place anyone could call home. The orange sand it sat upon gave it a warm feel and the reddish mountains behind it gave it the look of an eternal sunrise. Bird's cries echoed through the cavern walls and sounded beautiful in the early morning or soothing in the eve of dusk. The sky was never cloudy. The bright sun shone down on them forever as if smiling upon them. At night the stars were more brilliant than anything the people had ever seen. They themselves cast light almost equal to the massive moon or grinning sun. People came her for work to help with the growing trade. People came for a place to rest. A place to gaze at the miraculous scenery. Paintings of the very view I describe to you now hung on walls of residences, offices, and in places set up for the best of these. It seemed almost like a heaven on earth. The sand in your shoes dust blown into your eyes was a small price to pay for the beauty you would witness there. It was unsurpassed by anything on the continent. One man who once lived there once wrote  
  
"Oh how lucky are we the people of Oeilvert that we are allowed to dwell in the kingdom of the gods themselves."  
  
The people of Oeilvert were the people of a community. That was their home. That was their family. They cared not that there were thieves hiding in the bushes. They were content that they had friends to watch their back. They knew go to a store or bar and you could get help. The taverns were full of people known by first name. The inns were full of travelers trying to make their living. It was all quaint and simple. Oeilvert was the people's city.  
  
To the south of Oeilvert was another city. This city was not a small one like our beloved Oeilvert. It was instead a large mass of roads and buildings. No real scenery was present in this town. People knew select people but not everyone. The residences and offices had no artwork on the walls to let all see. No one had a real inspiration in this city. The castle of this city was in the middle of wheel-shaped city. All the spokes joined at the castle. Small in comparison to Oeilvert Castle, but large as compared to the other buildings in the city. Here was a city built upon not trade but industry. There were small factories working with the wonders of gun powder and making new weapons. Other factories made new ways to get around. They tried steam (whilst the engineers in Lindblum were working on the same concept) and other forms of fuel. You see, this was before the time of the Mist so that was not an option. The vehicles they did make were much to costly and many rode around on Chocobos. The people of this town were born with an exploring sprit. They tried to explore the whole continent on Chocobo saddle. Some wrote of what they saw others went to seek their fortunes. They were not content on staying in this city forever, either. They knew that ruthlessness was in people's blood. This cities population of men without morals doubled, nay, tripled that of Oeilvert's. It was an entirely different world. This was the world of Doft City. The taverns were not a good place to sit and rest. The inns were as dangerous as the streets themselves. Why did people come here? Did they have nowhere else to go? Perhaps but it was more the lord of Doft was a kindhearted man and gave many signs of sympathy but was uneducated in the way to deal with people who may have much more power than himself. The different clans and gangs had political influence. The lord thought it better to ride it out than try and stir up the hornet's nest. Here is where the story begins to take shape. Here is where the tale of different worlds collides.  
  
The man walked through the rocky streets of Doft, Residential district. The two-story houses rose up on either side of him and from one the smoke of the weapons shop bellowed from its chimney. He looked up at the light yellow sky. The sun was dropping and in a few hours it would turn to dusk. He, over the tops of the houses, saw the point of Doft Castle lingering there. He shook his head slightly. This was not a job it was a game of chance. How did he know how many others like him were wandering around searching under rock and in caves of old to find the same man he was. He tipped his cowboy hat down in front of his eyes. He stopped walking and his spurs made a different clanking sound at his abrupt stop. He lifted up his greenish looking poncho and pulled out a cigar. He put it between his teeth and then took out a match. He was about to strike it when he hesitated. He was just stressed. He put the match away and began biting on the cigar. That sometimes helped him more than the tobacco did. He then began to move again his spurs again taking on their rhythmic clanking. His cold grayish- blue eyes stared ahead of him from under the brim of his hat. He opened the swinging door to the weapons shop. The shop was one of the smaller buildings along the street. It's green roof and red brick chimney distinguished it. As he walked inside he stared around at the walls. Swords, staves, spears. All sorts of melee weapons. He strode over to the counter and leaned up against the wood block. He rose one hand up and removed his hat from his head revealing his short brown hair. A moment later the shop owner stepped in from his back room. He smiled at the man.  
  
"Ah! My friend! What is it that I may do for you? Did the weapon turn out as good as you had hoped?" he asked joyously  
  
He loved to see customers come back and give him praise on his skillfully crafted weapons. It was what kept his forging blades and spears.  
  
"It was quite good, Daniev." Said the man turning to face the owner  
  
The man too wore a smile. He lifted up his poncho as he did outside the shop only this time his intention was to pull out a folder up piece of paper. He unfolded it slowly and then turned it to face Daniev. The paper had a sketch of a man's face on it. Under it said "Wanted! 30,000 GIL!"  
  
Daniev was not surprised that this man had come to him with this. When he had picked up his weapon his said someday he may ask for his help. He was a bounty hunter. There were many bounties in the Doft area and the lord had set up a bounty hunter system for men who had no work or with skills and needed some money.  
  
"I see, compadre. You are looking for him now, eh? That seems like a small amount of money for you." Daniev said  
  
The man stared at the old shopkeeper. His eyes were getting old and his hair was almost all gone. The mustache he had was all gray and yet he still forged weapons constantly. He was truly a hard working old man who would get his reward.  
  
"I have been a hunter for a while now my friend. I know these men that I capture. I know this man. His bounty his a pittance to what will come out of me finding him."  
  
"And what might that be?" asked Daniev as he polished a blade  
  
"The rest of his men have bounties this level or higher. I could easily get enough money to last me a long time with all that I would receive from the whole band." The man remarked  
  
"I see…" Daniev replied and pondered for a moment "I haven't known you very long, amigo, but long enough to know you don't stay out of trouble because you go and find it. I've heard of this man. He is not the one to tangle with. As you said his crew are perhaps bigger cutthroats than himself. You would be foolish to go after him. I've even heard such things as he hails all the way from the eastern continent."  
  
The man gave a grunt. He did not believe this bounty from the city of Doft could have ever seen the eastern continent.  
  
"Just tell me where I can find him." He demanded  
  
Daniev shook his head.  
  
"There is a tavern on the northern side of the Industrial district known as "La Locanda". From what I know that is his main hangout." He explained  
  
The man tipped his hat and twirled around walking toward the door. He had a grin on his face as if he were invincible. Daniev saw this.  
  
"Senor!" he called to the man  
  
He turned back toward the aging shopkeeper with an inquiring look in his cold eyes.  
  
"Be careful." Daniev said  
  
The man smiled and walked out.  
  
The man had ridden his Chocobo to the Industrial district. The smell of sweat and burning materials filled the air. This was the one place in Doft where everyone DID know each other. They all worked together in the factories. They all knew each other's movements. They knew the other men's words. He rode to the end of the street until he saw the building with "La Locanda" on a sign above the doorway. He dismounted and tied his Chocobo to the post outside the bar. He then walked up the small stairs and into the bar. Inside it was dimly lit. He could hear the piano player pressing away at all the keys making a nice soothing bar tune. The man behind the bar was washing glasses and the rest were sitting at tables drinking or making conversation. The man walked in and his shoes clanked against the wood floor. Eyes were on him as he strolled over to the bar. He was out of place in this pub. He looked like someone from Oeilvert or even further north than that. Someone looking the way he did didn't often come to Doft city. As he sat down at one of the bar stools he pulled out the piece of paper and put it on the table showing the bartender. He looked at the paper and his brow furrowed. He scowled at the cowboy that just pranced into his bar. The man just smiled. The bartender nodded his head to the left at one of the tables. The man looked in that direction. He saw his bounty sitting slouched in a chair drinking a beer and playing cards. The man tipped his hat to the man behind the bar and strolled casually over to the table.  
  
The tall man was oblivious to the cowboy looking figure that had just appeared behind him. He just kept looking down at his cards. His long black hair went down to right above his collar. He was facing the other way but the bounty hunter saw the man had a beard and a mustache. The bartender pointed him in the correct direction. He smirked. He tapped the bounty's shoulder. He turned around and found himself staring at a belt buckle being worn on a pair of worn jeans. He gradually raised his head higher and saw, looking down at him, a cold-eyed man with a cowboy hat. He had never seen this man before. He did not work in the factories. The rest of the men around the table looked at both with concerned looks. Who was this man and what did he want with their friend? One almost got up from the table and was going to pull a knife on the stranger. Another man put his hand out and he sat back down.  
  
"May I help you sir?" asked the bounty looking at the newcomer suspiciously  
  
"I seem to have lost my way. I was wondering if you could give me directions." Said the stranger eyes not straying from the man's questioning gaze  
  
"Really? To where?" inquired the bounty  
  
The man flung his poncho over his shoulder. He revealed his pouch under it. It also revealed the wooden handles of his custom made revolvers. These were hand crafted by Daniev and worked by the principles of the new gunpowder charges. They were quite ahead of their time. He reached into his pocket and once again pulled out the, now wrinkled piece of paper with the bounty-head sketched on the front. He kept it facing his own eyes as he looked at it. He mocked the men. He made it look like he was reading a map.  
  
"Well I went… here… no… here…" He talked to himself as he moved his finger across the paper.  
  
He shook his head.  
  
"Gah! I give up! I don't think I'll ever find my way. I am not a good navigator. If you could help me I would be much obliged." He remarked as he started his hands toward the table  
  
He laid the paper out on the table. The men saw what he was really looking at. The men all around the table jumped up… except for the bounty. He sat transfixed on the wanted sheet. 'How did this man find me?' he asked himself over and over in his head.  
  
As the men all jumped up the stranger was more than ready. They were still in mid-rise and still had their hands on the backs of their chairs. They were still grasping the cards they were cheating with under the table. He already had one of his guns out. As if in slow motion he pulled back the hammer and pulled the trigger. The chamber of the handcrafted revolver clicked one space as there was a loud 'BANG' and a bullet exited the smooth barrel of the revolver. It hit the first man in the chest. A cloud of blood droplets appeared behind the man. It was all going so fast the man saw it slow… like what happens in a life or death situation your life passes before your eyes and you seem to be waiting a few minutes to actually live a whole second of time this man did in a gunfight. The bullet made a 'SPLUCK' sound on impact as the man flew backwards. He pulled back the hammer and then depressed the trigger once again shooting the second man in the shoulder. A small amount of blood came out and trickled down his arm and he clutched it with his other hand, thus dropping his gun. Another 'BANG' was accompanied by the third man taking a shot right to the head.  
  
The man then resumed normal time, as it seemed. He pointed his gun with haste at the spot where the bounty once was. He was no longer there and he twirled around just in time to see his shoes dashing out the doors to the bar. He too rushed toward the doors and flung them open just in time to see the dust kicked up by his prey's Chocobo. He holstered his gun and jumped onto his own Chocobo. He pursued him with delight. He knew that he would lead him right to his crew. Right to the man's fortune. He spurred the large bird under him on. He could not… He would not let this man get away. The dust was like his past and the bounty was like that of his future. The dust was behind him, the bounty was yet to come. He quickened the pace as they left the gates of Doft city in the distance behind them. Dusk was creeping up on them both. All that allowed the man to see his prize in the first place was the orange dust following his Chocobo as it ran. Come nightfall that dust would cease to lead him through the desert and would have to default to instincts.  
  
Nightfall came to the men in two forms. A goddess of sympathy giving a condemned man a final chance and a hateful demon ripping wealth away from a hard working man. The bounty sighed with relief as the darkness shrouded him. Him and his trail. It was about the only comfort he was given until he saw the small town of Oeilvert. He knew not which city that was. He was not concerned with that at the moment. All he wanted was a place away from the pursuing menace that was that stranger.  
  
The man sighed with discontent as darkness came over him as if he were drowning in the sea. He would now receive no life preserver. He would get no reward. These were the thoughts that drove him onward. These were the thoughts that made him follow the bounty blindly. After another twenty or thirty minutes of unchanging scenery in the darkness it began to glow radiantly. He looked to see the stars shining with brightness he'd never before seen in Doft. Another ways he finally saw the lights of Oeilvert. This was the only place he could be. Him being an educated man knew that Oeilvert lie somewhere south of Doft but he knew not how far. Now he was about to enter the city's gates and try and collect his fortune. He rode into the city. It had quite a different air about it. He took a deep breath and found it easier to breath here than in Doft. The sweet smell of local residences having dinner welcomed him. He saw vaguely the word "Inn" over one of the doorways and turned the handle on the wooden door. Inside he found himself in a small lobby. He checked in for the night and then went upstairs to sleep. 


	3. Oeilvert

Chapter 2- Oeilvert  
  
The man strolled out into the common early in the morning. The warm air of morning greeted him. The suns rays lightly shone on his back. He pulled his hat over his eyes per usual and began to wander around the dusty square to try and gather information. This central part of Oeilvert was the main common. It was a circle of houses and shops with four roads branching out to the outer parts of the town. He was ready to go to the trading posts toward the south of the town. He looked on either sides of the street he was on and especially where he had roped up his Chocobo. The big glossy bird was nowhere to be found. He didn't panic but was genuinely concerned. Where was his trusty fowl? He saw a boy come from around the back of the inn. He was almost as tall as the stranger and his dirty blond hair was cut rather short. He was tanned from being out in the sun so long and his jeans and shirt seemed to be wearing out very quickly. He grabbed him by the shoulder, not even paying attention to the violence of his actions.  
  
"I roped a Chocobo here last night." He exclaimed in an agitated voice  
  
The boy, startled, looked at the man in fear for a moment then realized the line of questioning.  
  
"Fear not, sir." Explained the boy as he made a motion gesturing toward the back of the inn.  
  
"All out patron's Chocobos are taken to the stable. Allow me to escort you."  
  
The man nodded with relief.  
  
The two trotted back behind the inn and saw a small stable. Three Chocobos in all were roped there. The boy untied the stranger's and handed him the reigns. The man nodded to what appeared to be 17-year old boy and flipped him a coin of forty gil.  
  
"Thank you, sir." Said the boy  
  
"No problem." Said the stranger as he put his saddle on the Chocobo.  
  
The boy stood there for a moment and then stuck out his hand.  
  
"My name is Colt." Said the boy  
  
The stranger held out his hand and gave him a firm shake and a nod of acknowledgement. He finished preparing his bird and gave the boy a one hundred and fifty gil. He took Colt by the shoulder and looked at him.  
  
"Now you listen… I want that hundred to go to the innkeeper and the fifty be for you. I want you to tell me if you see anyone not from around here. Anyone looking slightly suspicious."  
  
Colt nodded with understanding. The man mounted his Chocobo, spurred it, and with some unsettling of the dust rode out of the stable area.  
  
He rode down the southern road. He wouldn't have known this was the very road he traveled the night before because of the darkness. He saw many small shops and residences as usual but nothing or no one out of the ordinary for the small town of Oeilvert. He came to the trading post, a large building with garages for receiving and dropping off goods from Chocobo drawn carts, Chocobo-back, or any other mode of transportation. He walked around the mass of travelers, traders, and businessmen. He showed them all the same old sketch. The sketch of a bounty worth 30,000 gil. Nobody knew anything whatsoever about this man he so heartily wanted to find. He was alone. No one paid attention to such things as odd-looking men in Oeilvert. They just thought them another trader. Of course… if they weren't a trader and were there for some off purpose you would be sure to hear from the citizens something was wrong. You could always tell a man up to no good trying to fit in with the people of Oeilvert. It was the way they moved. They all moved different. They either moved like men with nothing to lose or everything to lose. Either was suspicious to the Oeilvertian people. None, however, remembered anything of such a man the picture described. No one remembered anyone coming in late last night. It was like this bounty-head didn't even exist.  
  
The stranger was receiving strange looks every once in a while but he was not questioned by anyone. He tried his best to mingle but it was true… He moved different than a native of Oeilvert. He rode his Chocobo to the other four corners of the town. No one remembered anything of such a man. Could he have moved on? No… He needed a place to lie low and Oeilvert was perfect. He would not pass up such opportunity. Things still, nevertheless, ceased to look up for the stranger. When the sun was directly overhead shining right on the top of Oeilvert castle he had not found anything of the bounty. He took out a cigar from under his poncho and this time took the match and struck it against the leather of his saddle. He lit the cigar and puffed on it a few times. He kept it clinched between his teeth as he continued down the dusty path back to the inn. He stopped outside the entrance as he always did. Out of the building Colt came out and took the reigns from him. The man dismounted and then reached for the sketch.  
  
"Boy…" He said unfolding the piece of paper "Do you recognize this man?" he asked  
  
Colt stared at the paper for a moment. His eyes grew wide and he began to talk in his teenage voice.  
  
"Why yessir. He should be upstairs right now. He checked into our inn last night. Room four." Colt replied  
  
The man's eyes opened wide. He was in the same building as him? The bounty's Chocobo was even tied next to his own. He shook his head violently and stormed inside the inn. He quickly bounded up the stairs. He went over to room four. He busted the door down by kicking it in. He opened it to find a bed that was neat and maid, a small bag, and a gun lain out on the bed. He looked around… No sign of the bounty, however. He walked into the room a little ways. He then felt a large weight on the back of his neck that sent him tumbling to the ground. He fell on his back and he heard a grunt of pain other than his own. He got himself up and saw that the bounty had pounced on his shoulders. He was now lying on the ground where the stranger had fell and had a look of discouragement plastered across his face. The stranger grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up. He took a quick right hook to the face and then punched him back into the hallway. The bounty's head hurt but he saw the man coming at him again. He blocked his shot to the gut and then to the chest and gave him one of his own right hooks. It hit the stranger's nose and his head flung back. The man wiped the small bit of blood from his nostrils and smiled at the bounty. He came at him with a nice, solid shot to the chest and it connected. This was repeated by a few punches to the face and chest area again. The bounty retaliated by kneeing the stranger in the groin. As the stranger began to double over in pain the bounty evaded him and jumped out the window of his room.  
  
The stranger felt the pain between his legs and it made his stomach tie up in a knot and he fell to his knees. He got up slowly trying to walk off the pain. It didn't help much but nevertheless he ran down the stairs into the common where the bounty was already running.  
  
The fight upstairs had gotten to the bounty's head. He had run the wrong way. Not towards the stables but out in the open. He now was glad he had thought to quickly grab his gun off the bed on the way out. He turned to see if he could quickly dash back to his Chocobo but the man was already walking out of the inn. The people in the square were all quiet. Colt was watching with interest from around the corner of the inn. The stranger's spurs clanged as he stepped out into the dusty square. A light breeze was blowing up and the dust was getting in his eyes. He pulled the brim of his hat down and then smiled at the bounty. He pulled out the, now familiar, sketch and threw it on the ground in front of his prey. The bounty glanced at it and then returned his gaze back to the hunter. The breeze blew up again and blew the sketch away. Colt retrieved it and folded it up and put it in his pocket.  
  
The two men were both facing each other. Their stance was wide. Their hands had dropped to their sides. One gave cold stares to the other. It was a standoff. Neither knew which would walk away. The people around them, the citizens of Oeilvert, were shocked at this. Nothing like it had ever happened in their small town before. These men had guns in holsters at their sides. They were both aiming to kill the other. The breeze blew again. The stranger's hat brim fluttered in the wind showing a glimpse of his cold gray eyes. A piece of paper flew between the two men and they both just kept staring into the other's eyes. The bounty moved his hand for his gun and the stranger did a mili-second behind him. The bounty had anticipated he was a fast gun so instead of actually drawing his gun and getting shot he quickly dove to the side. He felt the bullets whiz past him. He rolled to the side and drew his gun. He fired two shots in succession at the stranger. The man strafed out of the way and shot at the bounty's legs as he was crouched at the ground. The bounty, being a skilled in kung-fu and some sorts of gymnastics, did a back flip right as the bullets made small craters where he once was.  
  
The bounty had four shots left in the chamber while the stranger had two more guns. This was not good. He was standing away from the stranger again. He shook his head and charged at him with a running kick. The man ducked under it and quickly turned and fired two more shots. The hunter had two shots left in this gun. One missed and flew past the bounty's body but the other connected and hit him in the shoulder. Blood from his wound dripped onto the dusty ground. He held his arm for a moment then got up. His eyes wandered off the field of battle for a moment and saw the thick, metal covering of a cauldron. He rolled to the side feeling a bullet just graze him and grabbed the lid. He put it at him stomach but he saw the man's gun rise. He put it to his head and the bullet ricocheted off. The lid smacked him in the face lightly however. He shook it off. Four bullets left.  
  
The stranger saw this lid and wasted his last bullet on it. He threw his gun to the side and pulled his other out. Once again things slipped into slow motion. A bullet went right past his head as he raised his gun. He felt the heat coming off the small projectile. He pulled back the hammer and fired a shot at the lid. Bad shot… Another… Same place. This wasn't good. The impact of the bullets, however, pushed the man back. He was about to fall right on his buttocks. He was flying backward. He forgot about the lid and threw it to the side. As he went backwards it seemed as if he were sitting in midair. His legs were straight and up in the air. He too felt slower in certain situations. He pulled back the hammer on the gun as he fell. It seemed like it was taking forever for him to fall. He depressed the trigger once and the gunpowder explosion sounded louder than normal. The bullet exited the gun and hit the stranger in the shoulder. He saw him jerk to that side as it made impact. The blood came out slowly and in drops rather than all it once like usual. He saw things differently in this slow motion state. He pulled back on the hammer and fired once again. The man now jerked to the other side as the bullet made impact with his opposite shoulder. His last bullet… the bounty had to make this count. He fell on the ground with a thud. The stranger was still reeling from the previous shots. He pulled back the hammer one last time. He fired the last bullet. He saw it go out of his gun and penetrate the man's flesh right over his heart. A small spurt of scarlet blood came from the wound. The motion returned to its normal speed. The man fell to the ground on his knees. Blood trickled down his chest. He coughed a few times at the ground as he propped himself up with his now limp arms. He coughed out red. It made a mark on the sandy ground. He fell under the weight of himself on his limp arms.  
  
He was blacking out. He felt searing pain everywhere. The man's mouth tasted of blood. He was breathing his last breaths and each was full of sand. Blood was trickling from his wounds. From his nose… He was dying. No… It couldn't end like this… He tried lifting himself up once more but failed. He coughed one more time. He closed his eyes. He moved no more…  
  
The bounty shuffled over to him clutching his wound. He just looked at the man. The hunter had become the hunted. The prey had killed the predator. He shook his head. This man really was a good opponent. He gazed around the common. People were staring at him. Their mouths gaped open at the spectacle they had just seen. Small children questioned their wide-eyed parents.  
  
"Mommy… Why doesn't that man get up?"  
  
Children a little older cried. Men and woman all gaped in horror at the murderer before them. The bounty now walked toward the stables. Colt got out of his way in fear. He came back on his Chocobo and rode out of Oeilvert as quickly as he had come.  
  
Colt went over and looked at the body of the stranger. He could smell the blood. He knelt down before the man. Why did he die? What kind of people are these that kill for no reason? He felt tears but he held them back. 'Men like that other deserve punishment!' he thought to himself. He clenched his fists. He picked up the two revolvers the stranger had dropped. He looked at the ammunition and firing mechanism. He went to the weapon shop quickly with a determined face in place of his usual grin. He walked into the weapons shop. Swords and melee weapons lined the walls as they do in most shops. Colt slammed the guns on the counter in front of the shopkeeper.  
  
"Can you make ammunition and powder charges for this?" he demanded  
  
"Well… I could try but…" the shopkeeper started but was interrupted by the innkeeper coming in and slamming the door  
  
He glared at Colt with the two guns on the counter in front of him. His gaze then went from angry to sympathetic.  
  
"Colt. Why are you taking the guns of that man and trying to get it to kill again. You can't go after that man."  
  
He had seemed to read Colt's mind. Colt hung his head.  
  
"But why can't I?!?! Look what he did to that man!" he yelled pointing outside the shop  
  
The innkeeper, seemingly not affected by these pleads, gathered the two guns and walked out of the shop. Colt ran after him.  
  
"Shouldn't the man lying there bleeding be given justice?!?" argued Colt  
  
"Do not think of me as a cold-hearted man now, Colt. I am only saying that if you go kill that other man out of revenge you will be just as good as him… and that is not good." The innkeeper said with logic  
  
He kept walking across the common back to the inn. He continued talking  
  
"And in addition even if I were stupid enough to let you chase after this animal your place his here in Oeilvert. Your place is here with me."  
  
"But I am now old enough to make my own decisions and that is what I shall do!" defied Colt strongly  
  
The innkeeper turned toward him surprised. He bowed his head and shook it to and fro.  
  
"You apparently aren't going to listen, Colt." The innkeeper remarked as he sighed  
  
He lifted his eyes to the young man's. They were about the same height now. His green eyes just stared at him. His blond bangs were down in front of his face swaying in the breeze. He was quite a handsome boy. Why did he want to get himself killed? The innkeeper smiled.  
  
"You know… Your father said you always had spirit."  
  
Colt looked up in interest at mention of his father.  
  
"He told me someday you were going to find a cause to fight for and never cease to fight until you won or died." The innkeeper reminisced  
  
He shook his head as if ridding himself of these thoughts and walked into the inn. Colt followed now wondering what he had on his mind. The innkeeper trotted over to the closet behind the desk of the inn. He pulled out a chest. He reached around his neck and pulled out a key. He opened the lock and opened it slowly. Inside were many things of interest to Colt. He looked through them. A pack, with a small amount of money in it. Three boxes of ammunition and powder charges. A pair of boots, spurs and a belt. He also saw something else in the box. A revolver much like those of the stranger but only more beautiful. It had an ivory handle and polished steel barrel and chamber. It looked as if it had never been used and it gleamed in the dim light of the inn. This is what the innkeeper reached for first. He picked it up by the barrel and handed Colt the gun's handle. He held it and, though it felt heavier than the others, he almost felt he could use this gun with more effectiveness.  
  
"That gun was your father's." stated the innkeeper "He told me to give it to you when you were old enough."  
  
Colt was in awe by the gun's expert handiwork. He took the pouch and started putting the ammo and charges in it. He took the belt, which had two holsters, and put it through the belt loops of his pants and switched out his old, dusty shoes with the leather boots in front of him. He attached the spurs onto the heel. He put the two guns from the stranger's possession and put them into the holsters. The other he lodged in the waist of his pants. He looked at everything and made sure he had all that he needed. He walked out the doors of the inn.  
  
As he walked, spurs keeping time with his steps, he heard the innkeeper's voice once more. He turned toward the old man. He had come and passed Colt. He walked toward the dead body of the stranger. He picked the hat off his head and bowed to the body (in Oeilvert it was a sign of respect to bow at funerals or whence someone had died) He took the hat and began dusting it off. He placed it on the top of Colt's head and stepped back a pace.  
  
"I believe…" he began thoughtfully "That since you are continuing his quest… He would want you to have this…"  
  
Colt smiled at the old man. He swung the pouch over his arm and walked back behind the inn to the stables. He quickly mounted himself on the stranger's Chocobo. It was a little jumpy for a moment but he settled him down. He soon trotted out from behind the inn on the glossy yellow bird. He saw the people of Oeilvert staring at him and wishing him good luck. He waved to them all and finally, without any further adieu, rode off into the horizon searching for the bounty. The bystander had become the predator. The prey would not be allowed to rest. 


	4. Freedom

Chapter 3- Freedom  
  
Colt started out across the desert. This animal that didn't belong to him obeyed his commands and was easy going. He didn't care his owner had just died. Why did everyone else? We are all just animals. Colt shook his head of these thoughts. It was not good to think such things. He was a man on a mission now. He needed to find that man… He needed to give the stranger peace in his stay in the afterlife. He had been traveling through orange cliffs and valleys. Suddenly the walls of the cliffs disappeared. He was traveling through open desert. The wind began to get stronger but he could tolerate it. It began to pick up more and more. The dust was flying all around him now. The wind was blowing fiercer than in Oeilvert. It kicked up sand in his face and in that of his fowl's. The Chocobo jerked forward and stopped. It made anxious "Kweh!" sounds. He spurred it on. The bird did not move very far until it stopped once again. This was not going to be easy. Colt dismounted from his Chocobo. In one hand he took the reigns and in the other held onto his hat so it did not fly away. It kept the sun and a great deal of sand out of his eyes. He was not keen on the idea of losing it. He moved through the wall of sand. It just kept beating at him. It hit his skin and it began to sting but after a good long time of this he failed to notice any longer. This sand storm was making him weary. How much longer till he saw some sign of civilization? How much longer must he toil through this endless wasteland of sand? This storm was growing stronger and stronger by the minute. He had been stepping through this sand for what seemed like an eternity. He could see nothing outside the light brown, swirling cloud that surrounded him. Even the hat wasn't protecting him from sand now. It crawled its way into his eyes and made him try and get it out. The sand was already covering his hands so it did no good, just made it worse. He knew the Chocobo was having as hard a time as he was. He felt it resist and buck and all sorts of things to attempt to get Colt to stop. Colt did no such thing. He had to keep on. He had to continue. He had to… His thoughts trailed off as his legs grew weak under him. He fell into the sand on his knees as he felt the sand fly into his pant legs. He collapsed on the sand. He needed rest… Rest…  
  
Colt awoke with a start. He looked where he was. He was no longer in the desert with his Chocobo. He looked at his surroundings. He was in a carriage. The windows were covered over by curtains and he was sitting on a padded bench. He could hear the wind blowing outside. He looked to the opposite side of the cart and saw an older man. His skin was a dark color and his white beard and mustache were turned upward seeing the man awaken. He wore a dark blue tunic and a turban-like scarf around his head. He looked at Colt with his brown eyes. It was the first face Colt had seen since Oeilvert. It was a sight for sandy eyes.  
  
"I see you hath awakened." The man commented as Colt blinked the sleep out of his eyes  
  
The seventeen year old stretched and yawned. He quickly returned to the matter at hand. Colt looked at the man.  
  
"Where am I?" he inquired  
  
"Why, you are my guest here in my carriage." Chuckled the man  
  
He held out his dark, wrinkled hand.  
  
"I am Kurtain." He spoke  
  
Colt took his hand and shook it  
  
"Colt." He introduced himself  
  
"Ah I see… Strange name." Kurtain remarked, "Where is it you hail from young Colt?" he asked  
  
"Oeilvert." Colt replied  
  
"Hmm… I had the oppurtounity to travel to Oeilvert once. My what a town. The people there were quite friendly. Much more friendlier than any other town I have visited on this continent." Kurtain remembered "And the food wasn't too shabby either." He finished tapping Colt on the knee and chuckling  
  
Colt too chuckled. It was true, Oeilvert was known for its good food.  
  
"As a matter of fact we many a time trade with Oeilvert you know. At least… I oft times encourage it in the traders I associate with." Kurtain explained  
  
"Who might "we" be?" asked Colt with interest  
  
"Ahh! I am from the city of "La Selva"" said Kurtain "True we ARE on a cliff overlooking the desert and not much grows near us we do trade valuable items from the wilderness."  
  
"Really? Like what?" wondered Colt  
  
Kurtain gave him a strange look. He was wondering if this boy had the nerve to doubt him on such a matter. Fury began to build up inside him but then he forced it to subside. This was just a young man who may not know the details of the trade.  
  
"We have various things, my boy. For instance over the years in the rock of our cliff a multitude of jewels were formed. It was unknown to us until now. We traded that to you and I believe one of your blade-smiths created quite a powerful sword from it. And that's just one of the many things we have to offer." Kurtain spoke as if he were trying to get people to come to his city to boost its tourism.  
  
Colt had never heard of "La Selva" before. An obscure city on the edge of a cliff no doubt. He sat smiling in his seat, hat in his lap when he realized that something had gone missing. He went into a worried state.  
  
"My Chocobo." He said staring at Kurtain "Where is my Chocobo?" he asked with much concern  
  
"Fear not. He is coming along. He is behind us at the moment. This very carriage is blocking the oncoming sand. It should have no problem." Kurtain told him  
  
Colt breathed a sigh of relief. This question in itself sparked new conversation.  
  
"Yes… You were quite lucky we have devoted men of this sort in "La Selva"." Kurtain stated with much pride "If not these men would probably be watching the games and you would be buried under three or four layers of sand by now."  
  
Colt gulped. Luck… If that's all he had then he had better keep a good supply of it. He wondered why they just happened to be passing through the desert. Kurtain read his stare and answered faster than Colt could ask.  
  
"Everyday we send out men to search the desert for anyone who may have gotten caught up in the sandstorms. Usually they are quite mild and the people we find are sitting it out until we come. However, you my friend were caught in a sand swirl. Very rare and very deadly. You were even more lucky than the average person." Kurtain said  
  
Colt found that they were riding in a carriage strange through a very hard storm. Why do their Chocobos keep going? Or were they Chocobos pulling this?  
  
"What pulls this carriage." Asked Colt with interest  
  
"Chocobos, of course." Responded Kurtain finding the question humorous  
  
"Well how, prey, do they keep moving while mine just stops. I take it you raised them a different way but I was taught that Chocobos were always afraid of strong winds and the like no matter how hard they are taught." Inquired Colt  
  
"Ah. I now see the manner of your questioning. Nay, these are not the sort of Chocobos you would find in Oeilvert or even Doft. These are Northern Chocobos." Kurtain answered  
  
'Northern? From the Northern continent?' wondered Colt. How would these men get Northern Chocobos all the way down to the deserts of Oeilvert? Wasn't the Northern continent one of ice and snow? He had only heard stories from his adventurous father as a child but he had taken that the cities that did exist in the North were often under snow for most of the year and then were in constant war when the snow melted. How could they get Chocobos from all the way up there?  
  
Again Kurtain read Colt's mind "We are a nomadic tribe, we who founded "La Selva". We originate from the cold of the terraces below "Esto Gaza". We had trained our Chocobos in the cold snowstorms of winter. Besides the climate these storms are identical. We just needed to raise another generation of Northern Chocobos and suit them for the desert climate and thus started "La Selva's" trade." Explained Kurtain  
  
"I see…" Colt said flatly  
  
The wind sounded as if it had died down by the time they had finished their conversation. Colt opened the curtains of the carriage and peered outside. The dust no longer swirled around them in a storm but was kicked up by the Chocobos pulling the cart. He stuck his head out a little further. Up ahead he saw a truly breathtaking sight. A cliff rose up out of the desert and went straight up until it came to a castle with surrounding houses and other buildings. Below in the swirling sand lay another group of building but instead of being centered around a castle a grand stadium stood in it's center. The sun shone right on the whole city now and it looked truly comparable to the beauty of Oeilvert. The orange cliff behind the light brown buildings made it look almost like the desert itself. 'What a unique place.' Colt thought. Of course he was truly mesmerized by the spectacle, for it was the first time he had journeyed outside of the city of Oeilvert. As they rode toward the city the gates opened and they slipped inside.  
  
Immediately once inside shouts and screams were heard over everything. They had entered in the market district. This was the busiest of all. It was centered around the stadium and from what Colt could tell people from all over the Continent have come here at this time. He assumed it had something to do with what Kurtain mentioned as "The Games". The old man opened the small door of the carriage and stepped out. Colt followed with interest. As he exited he saw his Chocobo at the back. This immediately made him grin in relief. He then focused his attention on the excitement around him. Small kiosks were selling goods to people walking down the streets. Many of the buildings were made with a type of yellowish stone and windows were just places where it was cut out and doors were just of the same origin with a wooden door in it. From the looks of things however it seemed as if they did not spend much time indoors. He saw what must have been over half of the population in the streets buying, selling, preaching. You and I would most likely compare this to a desert city like Cairo or somewhere along those lines but this was not anything like it. It was more magnificent than any city of it's kind. The sand had almost a cinnamon smell to it here. Colt felt this was a place he could find comfort. He needed such a place. Even Oeilvert's peacefulness was shattered. He turned to Kurtain. He had his eyes to the sky and was breathing in deeply.  
  
"Ah-ha! What a great pleasure it is to be home!" exclaimed Kurtain joyously  
  
Colt just smiled at the rejoicing old man. 'He must feel great pride for his home.' Thought Colt. He turned toward Kurtain.  
  
"What are all these people here for?" he asked  
  
Kurtain nodded as if it was a good question. He responded.  
  
"This is the crowd we attract you see. Quite a large crowd comes to "La Selva" each year for the annual games. The main event? Why, it takes place just inside the mighty stadium."  
  
Colt watched as Kurtain's hand rose gesturing to the road in front of them that led right to the massive gates of the stadium. The buildings were on either side and it showed you how mammoth a structure it was to see it compared with these structures. It dwarfed everything in the lower half of the city. As they walked they navigated their way through pickpockets, gypsies, salesmen and "Religious" leaders. They finally came to the gates. The large stadium loomed in front of them. Its design was strangely Northern for a city in the middle of the desert. It was almost built like a massive pagoda. Trumpets blared from inside the architectural wonder. The roar of the crowd was close to deafening. As they stepped inside the gates they stepped up a right flight of stairs. They soon came to rows of seats occupied by many people. They went down to the front row. They sat in two unoccupied seats and watched the sandy battlefield below. The benches were that of stone but nevertheless that least worried Colt at the moment. The massive oval shaped stadium on the battleground had six gates, spikes on the very top of the walls. Colt was in awe at the ruthlessness of the building. On the ground at the moment four men remained standing. Two lay dead on the ground with red stains where they fell when the final blow snuffing out the flame of their life had occurred. One man was trying his best to defeat melee-weapon wielding men with a bow and arrow. Kurtain nudged the boy.  
  
"That warrior is on his fourth match. After this he is free to go… If he wins…"  
  
A lone man with a bow and arrow was flying across the battlefield as if he had wings. His gracefulness gave him a style of fighting that Colt had never seen in any man before him. It almost seemed that the four imprisoned men left standing had no longer thought about the other three but on this one man. He was flying from one side to the other. At the moment, he was being pursued by a large, hulking man that looked as if he were built like a tank. However… the bigger they are…  
  
The warrior with the bow had put it around his shoulder and had grabbed one of the dead men's blades. The hulking mass of flesh, bone, and armor was charging right at him, sword above his head. He went up and blocked the sword with the blade of his own and then swirled out of the way. The tank looked around. Where did that little rat get to? It seemed he had failed to look behind him as that was where the warrior, his long golden hair flying in the breeze, was aiming an arrow at the back of his head. The man turned around abruptly. The sight of an arrowhead welcomed him in his face. His face curled up into a snarl as he attempted to charge at the man but it was too late. Within moments of him turning the rod of wood, tipped with steel, was already protruding from his face. Red bathed the end of the arrow. Blood trickled down his face as he collapsed to the ground. The crowd cheered. There was much rejoicing.  
  
The warrior then turned to try and find his next target. It seemed to find him. He saw one of the fighters coming at him with a spear. Seconds before the spear impaled him he ducked to the side. The fighter kept going until he ran to the wall and, not wanting to die by way of arrow through his nasal passageways, turned around quickly. The blond haired archer was evading this spearman quite well. Again he charged at the warrior and he made a quick break toward the wall. The spearman grinned. He was putting himself pinned against the wall. The warrior kept in his run at the wall until he met it. He jumped up and kicked the wall. In midair he spun around to face the spearman. He already had his bow and arrow out and in midair fired one right in his chest. It even pierced the light armor he was wearing. He fell backwards and onto the sand. He lay there, unmoving. Again the crowd broke out into a roar. All these people had on their minds was blood lust.  
  
The warrior again had won a small victory. It didn't last for long however. He heard the footsteps running up behind him. Moment's before the next fighter's blade lacerated his head he ducked. He rolled forward and grabbed the spear out of the clutches of his last opponent. He stood and swung the spear around hoping to frightening him off and then charging at him for the kill. As he swung around and reached the direction of the man a splash of red hit him in the face. He wiped his eyes and saw the man was much closer than he had suspected. When he whirled around the spear had ripped a gash in his face. He now lay on the ground leaking blood from his, now unrecognizable, face.  
  
The warrior looked around at the battlefield. All men were dead. He heard the roar of the crowd. His face, his clothes, his weapons… all covered in blood. He raised the spear that had dealt the final blow. The spear that had won his freedom. He held it up high proud that he now could go on with his life. He let out a whoop of joy as the people in the stands cheered uncontrollably. He was circling around looking at all the people and smiling. As he did one of the men on the ground got up. He got up and ran at the unsuspecting man. As the warrior circled he just caught a glimpse of a huge hulk of a man running at him with a broadsword. He tried parrying or blocking but it was all happening so fast. He felt a pain in his abdomen. His mouth gaped open. Blood trickled off his lips. The point of the blade had exited out his back and it was covered in red. The man grinned as he turned the blade making the pain so much more excruciating for the young, blond-haired warrior as he perished. Finally he dropped the impaled corpse on the sandy ground. There was silence in the crowd for a moment. It took their minds a moment a new winner stood before them. A second went by and suddenly, without warning, the stands erupted in cheers. The winner looked quite please.  
  
Kurtain clapped his hands. Colt was amazed by the violent display. 'How could this whole world revolve around death?' he asked himself. Kurtain rose from his seat as he continued clapping.  
  
"Bravo! Bravo!" he chanted  
  
Colt stood up as well. He held back a cringe. How could people enjoy this kind of spectacle? Colt turned toward the old man.  
  
"Thank you for your hospitality, Kurtain." Colt said, much obliged  
  
"It's not a problem." Kurtain responded smiling  
  
"However, I do believe I will be getting on with my journey." Colt finished as he turned around to start walking toward his Chocobo  
  
Kurtain grasp his shoulder firmly.  
  
"Now now my friend. You must stay for the games. They are marvelous." Kurtain said smirking  
  
Colt glanced at the bloody corpses littered around the field.  
  
"Blood sports are not exactly my interest." Colt replied in a dull voice  
  
"No. I must insist. It better become your interest quite soon young man." Kurtain remarked as he waved his hand.  
  
Two large hulking armed guards came up behind the boy. The both grasp his shoulders. Their hands dug into his shoulders. Kurtain stood there quite please with himself.  
  
"What is the meaning of this, Kurtain!?!?!" exclaimed Colt with venom  
  
Kurtain chuckled to himself.  
  
"There IS a toll for those passing through La Selva you know. Take him away!" he ordered his guards and soon they had drug Colt out of the stadium. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his head… then things went dark.  
  
"Uggh…" Colt lurched as he arose from being knocked out. He felt the back of his head. A bruise was present there. A big one. He shook off his drowsiness. He rubbed his eyes and tried to look around. His hands had sand all over then so he was forced to get the sand out of his eyes after it crept in. He finally was able to open his eyes. He was in a small room. He was lying on an old mattress. It was quite uncomfortable. He saw a small window above him. It was nighttime. No sunlight shone through the window but he observed the stars. He stood up on his tiptoes and grasp the bars. He hoisted himself up and looked out. It seemed to be a cell built into the side of the cliff above the low part of the city. He dropped back down and scratched his head, thus getting sand in his hair. They do not take security too lightly here. He looked around the small cell. It was quite dark. He looked to one corner and saw a figure in the shadows. He jumped slightly and stared into the inky blackness. He could see the man just stared back at him. He leaned closer to the figure it say unmoving until Colt heard him take a breath. He began to speak and this too startled Colt and made him jump.  
  
"You too were taken from the clutches of the desert to be put in the clutches of Kurtain too, no?" the man inquired  
  
Colt sensed an odd tone in his voice. Odd indeed. He was not from Oeilvert nor from La Selva. He had a noticeably different tone.  
  
"Yes… Yes I was…" Colt spoke finally  
  
The man in the corner chuckled.  
  
"You too have been found worthy of La Selva's arena!" he spoke as he continued to laugh  
  
Through the darkness the man could not have known but Colt wore a strange look of questioning on his face. In a cell without hope of escape and this man was laughing. The jubilant sounds of the man quickly died down as his words again rang through the cell.  
  
"If God is there for me tomorrow I shall leave this place a hero, you know." His voice trailed off.  
  
"Then Godspeed to you." Colt responded.  
  
"Nonsense." The man retorted "I believe in no God." He began to chuckle again.  
  
Colt was not as ease with the man's words. They made him feel even more uncomfortable. How could this man survive without the faith in something greater? Colt asked himself many questions then fell back to sleep on his makeshift bed.  
  
Colt felt a point pressed against the back of his neck. His eyes opened slowly and he cautiously turned to see who stood behind him eager to strike. As he looked up at the man he saw it was a guard. His dagger now pointed Colt straight in the eyes. Colt blinked his eyes a few times then brought his fists up and rubbed the sleep out of them. Once again he began to stare at the guard.  
  
"Are we going somewhere?" Colt asked in a sarcastic manner  
  
The guard grabbed him by the back of his shirt, which by this time was quite dirty and tattered, and got him on his feet. Using the dagger to force him to move they both walked down the stone hallways until they came to a metal door. On it there was a plaque. It was written in a language Colt could not read. He guessed it was La Selva's native tongue. The guard opened the door with his ring of many keys. He then proceeded to push Colt in and he slammed the door behind him leaving a ringing in Colt's ears. Colt shook his head violently, for the ringing was quite loud. He looked at the door as if trying to scowl the guard but he was already gone. He then looked at his new surroundings. It was a large room with wooden cabinets all lined up in a row. Men were at these cabinets pulling out breastplates, helmets, gauntlets and other items of the like. There were both large muscular men along with smaller, scared looking men. There was dark skinned and light skinned. Colt was uneasy with it. He knew these were the men he would fight against to the death… And many looked much more fit than himself. One man turned to him. He grasp his shoulder and turned him around. Colt was about to retaliate when he spoke.  
  
"Number 42. Down that way… next to 41." He said and began to laugh at his joke.  
  
"I don't know if the boy can count, Digera." Another voice called to him  
  
Colt immediately recognized the voice. It was the man in his cell with him. He was about to go over and wish him his best when Digera grabbed his shoulder once again.  
  
"Are you deaf? 42 is down that way, boy."  
  
Colt gave him a harsh stare and began walking toward his cabinet. As he reached it he opened it up and pulled out his armor. It was much too big for him but he surmised that it probably wouldn't matter anyway. With his luck he'll die first day out there… but that was luck… He didn't have any luck but he had faith. He suited up and soon the guard came back, with two friends I might add, to escort them all to the arena. As they marched them out of the room Colt followed coming last in line. He was the "runt" of the group. After walking quite a ways through the torch-lit corridors they came to a group of five other guards. Each man was paired with a guard and they went down opposite ways for it was a fork in the road. Further on another fork appeared until one man had gone down his own separate tunnel. Colt was led and arrived at a large, wooden gate. The man threw water on him, as to cool him off, and unbound his legs, for they were in shackles. He then came around the front and faced Colt.  
  
"What weapon will you use?" asked the guard  
  
Colt stared at him blankly.  
  
"Well? What weapon?" he asked again with a sense of urgency  
  
"My gun." Colt answered with little emotion in his voice  
  
The guard showed a puzzled look upon his face.  
  
"Son, you may be a dead man but you ain't a daft one. You're fighting against eight men and yet you choose a six-shot gun? It's suicide, boy."  
  
"My gun… if you will." Colt insisted as he held out his hand.  
  
The guard shook his helmed head and placed the heavy revolver into Colt's hand. Colt immediately felt at ease with the weapon he was given. He then turned to the guard once more.  
  
"Oh… and I will not lose." He said now feeling as if his words were getting to big for him to fulfill.  
  
The guard smiled.  
  
"And I WILL win with only six-shots." Colt remarked  
  
The guard stifled a laugh and went to a pulley on the other side of the room from Colt. He hoisted the rope and on the outside a golden flag rose to show the guards on the outside who was ready to fight. Slowly the rest of the flags rose, as well. From inside the corridors the men heard trumpets begin to blare, a crowd begin to roar, drums begin to beat. Was it a march to their death? Only God knew for sure. They heard a man exclaiming that he was happy to see La Selva there to witness the battle and he welcomed everyone and he went on for quite a while. Colt was tensed on the inside but he did his best to hide his feelings of dread. He stared straight ahead into the door and let a yawn pass his lips. The guard once again looked at him in a puzzled manner.  
  
"Are you not scared?" he inquired  
  
Colt stood unmoving for a moment.  
  
"No."  
  
A deafening roar came from the crowd as the man came to the closing of his speech…  
  
"Now, my friends, in this ring today we have a man about to win his freedom! Others are on the second others is their first time to fight. We have all type of competitors here today! Now for the glory of the king of La Selva and for the entertainment of all you present… Let out… the warriors!"  
  
Trumpets blared once more and the wooden gates swung open. Colt was momentarily blinded by the light. It was dark in the halls and the white light of the sun shone brightly. Whence his eyes adjusted he found himself in the middle of a great arena. The seats were all filled and the crowd roared in anticipation of the upcoming battle. It was a sight Colt would have held in awe if he were not a part of this bloody spectacle. He ran into the field of battle and sand kicked up all around him. He saw the men quite clearly, armor glinting in the sunlight. He then heard footsteps and quickly sidestepped and turned around. Where he once stood a large blade fell into the ground. He saw the man, with no helmet, and his long, straggly black hair falling in his face. He was gritting his teeth at Colt and made grunting noises and again swung the massive sword at Colt. This time it was not a surprise and Colt dodged the swipe with much agility. The man was tired and weighed down by the enormous blade. Colt once again dodged his next attack and then started the offensive of his own. As the blade fell to the ground and the man rested for a few moments Colt rushed and kicked the man right in his face. He fell backward, being a surprise, and now was separated from his weapon. He got up surprisingly quickly and lunged at Colt. Colt once again swiftly sidestepped and the next moment the man fell to the sand his back facing upward. Colt raised his pistol to the man's head. As he rolled over onto his back his eyes locked on the barrel of the revolver. Colt's expression of remorse was plastered on his face as he pulled the trigger. A shot was heard all through the stadium and blood mixed with the sand pouring from the hole in the man's skull. Colt sighed and now rose to fight with the other men. He had very little time to rest, however, as a man with a broadsword was rushing at him. He ran at him hoping to impale him upon the cold steel of the blade. Colt quickly dodged but the blade cut a large gash in his arm. He shook off the pain, seeing as the adrenaline dulled it, though blood spurted from the wound. He found himself lying next to the mammoth sword of the first man. He picked it up with both hand and swung around hitting the swordsman with the flat of the large blade. The swordsman reeled from the attack and fell backwards onto the sandy ground. Colt rose and looked in the man's eyes for a moment. He then thrust the huge sword into his chest, piercing the armor and impaling the swordsman as if the sword was nothing more than a skewer. The swordsman gasp for breath as blood dribbled down his lips. He then coughed and blood sprayed from his mouth falling on himself and mixing with the sand. Colt once again had a look of remorse stuck on his face. He was not at all proud of this. He picked up the man's broadsword and turned to find yet another opponent.  
  
Another man rushed at Colt with a broadsword. Fully armored and with a ruthless attack stance he ran at him. He came in and lunged for an overhead slash. Colt blocked it with the blade of his own. For many moments the two were locked in combat. Every attack Colt delivered the man successfully parried and the same went for him. They were equally matched in the sword. Colt grew weary quickly and drew his revolver from the waist of his pants. When they both locked in an attempt at the man's overhead slash Colt brought the gun up to his eyes. The man stared blankly for a moment then his face twisted into an evil snarl. Before he had any time to react, however, a shot had been fired and a bullet was lodged in his skull. He fell to the ground in a cloud of dust and blood leaked from his head. As Colt turned to seek out his next prey he saw a man with a spear running at him. Colt ducked swiftly as he felt the spear-tip rush over the top of his head. He then rose under the shaft of the spear and pulled it away from the man and fired a shot into his head as well. Colt quickly snatched up his sword and looked around. Two other men were alive. Two were killed by the others and four by Colt's own hands. He casually walked to the next warrior. He was waving his two battle axes around like a mad man. Colt came up behind him and bashed him over the head with the hilt of his sword. He fell to the ground and Colt effortlessly landed a bullet between his eyes.  
  
The crowd went silent. Colt knew the other was right behind him. He could feel it. His gun was in his hand but it took to long to fire it… that man would be on top of him by then, if he figured it correctly. He ducked down and grabbed one of the axes then, without looking, hurled it at the last warrior. He heard it hit something but it was all happening so fast he couldn't be sure. He then, once again, could get a clear picture and he saw the axe had landed right in-between the eyes of his opponent.  
  
The crowd was astonished. They were silent. They thought that young man was going to die for sure… His prowess in battle was exceeded by none. A single yell echoed through the cavernous stadium and more followed. Once again it became a mad house and was in an up-roar. Colt was being applauded. Colt looked around at the death. He was not glad of this. One of the wooden doors opened and two guards stepped out. Colt shook his head and walked into the door going right past them, as if ignoring them. The speaker from the beginning of the fight began to speak again and all was back to normal… with the exception that the prison now had seven cells unoccupied.  
  
Colt again walked the dark, dank hallways. He hated himself for what he had done but hated that there was no way to stop it. He is going to avenge a man's death and secure his honor where there will be many men seeking himself for the deeds he has done today.  
  
Colt was escorted to his cell and, once away from the company of the guard, immediately fell onto his makeshift bed for he was quite tired. He was just about to doze off when a voice brought him back to reality.  
  
"Hello…" a nervous voice said  
  
Colt's head bolted up and his eyes shifted around his cell. In front of him sat a thin, frightened looking man. Colt looked at him for a moment then again rested his head upon the ground.  
  
"Were you the one that won today's match?" asked the man  
  
"Yes. I Am." Spoke Colt sharply "Now would you be so kind as to let me rest for I have had quite a tiresome day and I imagine tomorrow will not be unlike it."  
  
The man twitched slightly at the sharpness of Colt's words. He was frightened of him when he was a full-grown man and many people would still consider Colt a boy. Colt saw the man's fright and as much as he wanted to rest he knew this man would most likely have a heart attack first time in the ring. He sighed and began to speak.  
  
"My friend, please excuse the harshness of my tone. You see, I have never been one to enjoy such vulgar bloodshed. I have always tried to shelter myself from it, as did my elders. Now I have been thrust into a community who finds entertainment out of blood. I am only fighting because I have to, you see. I find that I shall either live or die and I have more pressing matters to attend to so dieing is out of the question. I wish not to see anyone else die but I will kill all in my path to freedom if it is necessary."  
  
The man was, again, shocked by these words but it proved to him that this boyish looking warrior was not all battle without heart. He didn't wish to fight. He was made to.  
  
"I see." He spoke sheepishly  
  
Colt just shook his head. He hated this place.  
  
"Did you hear of the last person who won his freedom?" the man asked Colt  
  
Colt closed his eyes and sighed. He wished to sleep but continued trying his best to be polite.  
  
"No. I haven't."  
  
"I see. He was a Burmecian. You know, from the Eastern continent. From what I've heard he was part of a group of the Burmecian Royal Guard on their way to Ispen for training. He was caught in the storm and taken in by the guards here and forced to fight. He won his freedom and now that group of the Royal Guard is headed here, to retrieve their soldier, no doubt."  
  
Colt looked at the man inquisitively. Burmecian? Of what county were such people from? He had heard of Ispen before but he knew not where, or what, it was. He did know it was located somewhere far north of Oeilvert. That all he knew.  
  
"Well that is quite interesting, kind sir. I only hope I, and you for that matter, win our freedom as the brave Burmecian."  
  
"Aye. Godspeed to you." The man said and finally went silent to allow Colt to rest.  
  
The next three mornings became routine. The guards woke up the sleeping Colt, took him to suit up, they battled in the mammoth arena and whence Colt had shed the blood of all his opponents he retired back to his cell to await the next morning. Yes, he won his next two matches. Per usual they were quite gruesome. I would go into the painstaking detail of such bloodshed but I wish not to bore you for they were seemingly the same. Armed with his revolver Colt rushed them all using weapons from the fallen to cut, impale, shoot, slice, dice, stab, and so forth his enemies. Each night he was also presented with a new cellmate telling him the one from the night before was slaughtered. Thus Colt woke up on the forth day. He was not eager, though if he won this match he would become free once more. He was taken and he suited up and everything was moving the same as the last two days. He was taken to the hallway. The man outside had already begun his post match speech. The guard was shaking his head.  
  
"Does ye hear what that man is saying out there, me boy?" the guard inquired  
  
He spoke in what you and I would consider a Scottish accent. Colt listened to the man speaking and the movement of people in the stands and their shouting muffled the sounds of the speaker.  
  
"No, I do not." Answered Colt  
  
"He is sayin' that the Burmecian Royal Guard is entering one of their own in the match this mornin'. Does ye know what this means?"  
  
"No." Colt again answered absentmindedly.  
  
He really cared not what this guard had to say.  
  
"It means that they want to show everyone that the Burmecian Royal Guard is the most well trained in the world. It mean that if ye wins today thee will be hunted and will have made quite an enemy in the Burmecians for killing one of their soldiers. But, if you loose may God have mercy on both your souls."  
  
Colt scowled the guard. He was really giving him quite a pep talk. The gates opened and once more Colt was thrust into the ring of carnage. Again he quickly dispatched all his foes and then he was faced with the hulking Burmecian.  
  
He was quite large and muscular and he heaved a huge sword but that did not surprise Colt in the least. What threw him off was the appearance of a Burmecian. He was a vermin. His face and body was that of a large rat. A large rat wielding a sword, of course, but nevertheless, a rat. This took Colt by surprise but did not slow him a bit. The two became locked in combat. Colt had retrieved an equally large sword from another opponent and they both parried and blocked each other's blows. After a long time of this the Burmecian made the blade fling from Colt's hands. Colt was without a weapon but he was determined to win this match. Suddenly Colt felt as if he was traveling very slowly. He heard everything go quiet. He saw the Burmecian, now also moving slowly, jab at him with his blade. What Colt did now was truly spectacular as he flipped over the oncoming blade. Once on the other side of it he turned and kicked the blade into the air and then caught it. It was as if slowing down made him a better fighter somehow and gave him much more time to react and fight. It was unlike any feeling before. He then took the sword and with a spinning attack sliced through the Burmecian's stomach. Blood spurted from the large gash. It sprayed all onto the sword and the ground. However this by-product of adrenaline (at least that was what Colt guessed it to be) did not end. As the Burmecian fell to the ground he kept slashing at him. Over and over. Blood dripped from the tip of his sword. It splashed onto his clothes and onto the sand. He was brutally mutilating this Burmecian. It wasn't out of hatred for that particular being but because he had been forced to fight in the first place. Because he was forced to fight in this blood sport. He hated the people who had made him do so and he took it out on this warrior.  
  
He then came out of his rush. He realized he had freedom. People were chanting his praises. He was finally free. He gazed around the stadium with a grave satisfaction. Then he gazed to where he saw a battle ready Burmecian Guard. He looked as if he were much higher in rank and had a menacing look about him. He darkly glared at Colt and now he knew the guard's warnings was probably true. He shook his head because of the bloodshed and once again walked to the gate he had emerged from and walked the hall back to his cell.  
  
Almost as soon as he sat down in his cell a guard opened it once more. He was much more friendly (most likely because this was now a free man) and he came with a small stack of neatly folded clothes. He handed them to Colt and spoke.  
  
"You are to go bathe yourself and get dressed in this tunic. Your ceremony for becoming free once more is going to start in about an hour. You are instructed to hurry."  
  
Colt took the clothes and followed him to what appeared to be the bathhouse. He climbed into the tub and became to bathe. It had been too long since he had properly washed and the cuts, bruises, and gashes he had received anew over the last four days needed some cleaning at least. After he had washed he got out, dried off and put on the clothes that were given to him. It was a white tunic with golden embroidery. It was quite a nice piece of clothing. Once he was dressed he emerged from the bathhouse and was taken with the guard. He was then taken down a new hallway that he had never been led down before. He then emerged into a large throne room. In the middle he saw a huge marble staircase leading up to the king of La Selva on the throne.  
  
As he entered there was a bit of clapping when everyone in attendance began to whistle a tune. It was soon accompanied by guitars and drums. He recognized the tune. One of his cellmates whistled it often and said it was the La Selva anthem. As he walked on the first verse ended and the whistling stopped but the other instruments kept playing. As he walked up the large staircase trumpets on either side of him began playing the same tune still with the drums and guitars. It was quite a marvelous thing to behold. Once the verse again was over the whistling resumed, the trumpets continued, the guitars and drums became louder, and people began chanting lyrics to the song. It was one of the most awe-inspiring performances Colt had ever seen. He finally reached the top of the staircase and after the last verse had ended the music ceased and all became quiet. The king raised his hands above Colt's head and began to speak.  
  
"To few a time do we see a young man like you win his freedom from the arena! However, if young men like this one always perished La Selva would not be here today! For the founders of our great city traveled through the desert and stumbled across bandits and ruffians! These evil men declared they would kill our founding fathers! Even when our blood had killed those who opposed us we were forced to fight for our land! Bloods was shed on both sides and blood is shed today! Now it is not to claim our land back from evil men! Now it is to honor those who fell to keep such a grand place for our city! We now sacrifice ourselves, and others to honor those who fell before us! And to make sure everyone here knows I am not speaking as a man sitting high upon a throne, never having to fight myself, it is MANDATORY for the king of La Selva to fight in the tournament and win his freedom FOUR different times! To prove he will be a strong and able leader for such a city! Now this young man has won his freedom and with this ceremony we honor him!"  
  
The king then paused for a moment then turned behind him and grasp the wine bottle and glass his servant was holding. He poured the red liquid into the glass and turned back toward Colt.  
  
"Now, son, take this wine of La Selva and claim your freedom for you hath earned it!"  
  
He handed the glass over to Colt. Colt gazed into the red liquid for a moment. He then looked at all the people gathered. In one corner he saw the Burmecian warrior, still with a grave look upon his rat face. He then turned back around toward the king and held the glass up to his lips. He swallowed the red wine. It tasted very sweet. Much more than any he had ever tasted. But that was not the wine. That was the taste… of freedom. 


	5. Thieves

Chapter 4- Thieves

Colt awoke from his bed in the local motel. He was offered a room for free as he was the new champion and all and he did not hesitate in taking the innkeeper up on his offer. He had not slept in a proper bed for what seemed to have been a year but was more like only a week. Colt reluctantly rose from his slumber and went to the water pump and bowl over by the door. He pumped out some water and washed his face and drank some to help awaken him.

The inn was not a completely run down place. As a matter of fact in La Selva it was quite cozy. You and I would think it behind the times but in La Selva those were the times. Colt felt at home. In the inn at Oeilvert it was quite similar except that the rooms were a little neater. This was a minor detail for Colt at the moment, however, as he got dressed in his old clothes and put on his hat. He then walked down the steps of the inn and went into the streets of La Selva.

Once again, as on his first arrival to the desert city, he found himself emerged in the market district. The shouts of merchants on the road aggravated him but he was accustomed to the quiet tranquility of Oeilvert. The only noise there was that of the wind blowing the sand. Here Colt, every once in a while, would be forced to shoo away a merchant or two but he did not mind a great deal. He understood they were trying to make a living. 

As he navigated the streets he found himself looking for the regular gun shop. He had found that, though they had given his guns back to him without persuasion, they had failed to supply him with any ammunition or new charges. This annoyed him and so he was forced to search the streets for a gun shop. He had found this atmosphere quite different from that of Oeilvert and found the people much more rude. They all seem angry with anyone and yell much of their time. Though, that is probably because they try to make themselves heard over the other noise in the district, it is somewhat a nuisance for those trying to talk to them. His eyes were getting very irritated at the moment, as well. In the market district he had found that all the people hustling and bustling around cause much dust to fly up into the air. He was squinting at this point. Finally, through the clouds of sand, he saw a weapon shop. Like most other buildings in the city it was blocky, sand colored, and had the many archways and windows along with the pegs at the top of the building for tying a canopy or a clothesline to. As he walked into the building he removed his hat and placed it under his arm. He then blinked his eyes a few time to try and get the dust out of them. After a few seconds he opened his eyes and looked at the man behind the counter. 

He was a dark-skinned man, like many of the citizens of La Selva (because of the amount of sun they get… after all they are in the desert) , and he was dressed rather outlandishly in Colt's mind. Instead of a suit like he had been accustomed to for businessmen to wear he wore clothing similar to the tunic given to Colt the night before. He also wore a red fez on top of his balding head. As Colt came through the doorway the man came from around the counter and patted Colt on both his shoulders, as he was honored in being in the presence of the man that won his freedom. He smiled a toothy smile and showed his yellowish teeth (and at least one tooth was missing) and began joyfully helping Colt with what he needed. 

"Ah yes, my good man." The storekeeper spoke "I shall make sure you are pleased with anything you buy from here. I'll ever give you a 30% discount! I admire you very much, sir." 

Colt cracked his mouth into a small grin. He was amused by the man. He then let his eyes wander and examine the room. He saw many a bladed weapon but there were no guns displayed. Colt began to feel let down, and sorry for the storekeeper who looked very hopeful in helping him. 

"Yes sir, I am looking for some more charges and ammunition for my guns here, you see." Colt explained to the storekeeper

He smiled and clapped his hands together once and then took Colt by the shoulder and led him to the back room. As Colt went through the curtain he found himself looking at firearms of all kinds. Colt was relieved. He could get moving quicker and not have to journey to another store. He looked around and found the type of bullets he used most often. He picked up three boxes and then did the same with the charges. He asked the man how much everything was. The shopkeeper, though, was content on selling Colt something else. When Colt finally refused very firmly the shopkeeper ceased his bartering and sold him the ammo and charges, and for the promised 30% discount. Colt exited the shop and put the boxes inside his pouch where he kept that sort of item. He began the way back down to his hotel when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. 

Colt swirled around and looked who was behind him. It was a Burmecian, though he did not look as menacing as some he had seen. His large black eyes stared at Colt and cracked what Colt was sure was a smile. He wore jeans, a tan shirt, and a vest over it. Colt also noted the holster at his side carrying a revolver and a shotgun hanging on his back. 

"Hello, friend. Beautiful morning isn't it?" the Burmecian spoke

Colt looked at him, a little puzzled "I suppose. I don't believe this town suits me. The dust is quite hard on the eyes." 

"Not to mention the sport of choice." Said the Burmecian nodding his rat-like head toward the stadium

Colt just stared at the stadium for a moment then turned his attention back to the Burmecian. 

"Is there some reason why you choose me to talk about the morning with?" Colt asked, obviously aggravated

The Burmecian shrugged. "I just wished to see the new champion of La Selva's great blood sport." 

"And you are?" Colt inquired

"A fellow champion, like yourself." The Burmecian said with his grin

Colt was surprised for a moment. 

"So you are that Burmecian soldier captured and forced to fight then won back his freedom." 

"Bah. I thought you were smart enough a man to not believe everything you hear, or is your intelligence present only on the battlefield?" the Burmecian retorted

Colt was insulted slightly by this remark but then saw the Burmecian's mouth curl into a smile once more. He grasped his shoulder and chortled a little. 

"No matter. Come! Let me buy you a drink. Us free men need to stick together, eh." He exclaimed

He then pulled into his pocket and pulled out a small cigar. He struck a match and lit it. He puffed smoke from under his whiskers and out his nose. He then looked at Colt and reached into his pocket once again. 

"Ah, but where are my manners?" he said while bringing out another cigar

Colt waved his hand. "I thank you but I do not smoke." 

The Burmecian shrugged and put it back in his jeans. He took him by the shoulder once more and led the way to someplace to get a drink. 

After following the Burmecian through the sandy streets of La Selva, Colt seemed to notice a pattern in the way the city was built… All the restaurants and shops worth their salt stood very close to the stadium, for many people went through this area. It was just good business for the people who ran these establishments. Of course, the market district was a different story as it was made up of kiosks and barters, not honest to God shops. Taverns, it seemed, were the same. The two had walked to a small bar quite near to the stadium. Near enough to hear the roar of the fans. This, understandably, made Colt's hair stand on end. Though the bar was inside the normal sand colored brick walls typical to La Selva the roof… well, there was no roof. It was open on the top so to let the sunlight in and create quite a unique experience for the tavern's patrons. Colt sat at a table along with the Burmecian with a bottle of the finest La Selva made ale. The Burmecian had his own rat-like fingers wrapped around fine La Selva whiskey. 

"So, where have you come from, friend?" the Burmecian asked after taking a sip of his whiskey

"I hail to the city of Oeilvert." Colt answered, puzzled by the Burmecian's interest in him

"Ah, Oeilvert. I went to that city once as a child… When my parents were still alive. That was so long ago. I have heard a city sprang up to the south of Oeilvert since I visited. I have heard it is not the most pleasant of environments." 

"Yes, you must be thinking of Doft. A large industrial city, it is." 

"Industrial? What is it they make there?" the Burmecian inquired

"Oh, weapons, airships. They are quite the pioneers in today's technology." 

"Airships, you say? Tell me, have you ever been to the Eastern Continent, Colt?" 

"No, my friend. Up until now I have lived in Oeilvert all my life. I had planned to live there to the extent of my days but I've found myself wanting more." 

"Well, someday you must travel to the vast Eastern Continent. There is a city that also experiments in the technology of airships. It's a beautiful city run by the great family line of Cid. He is a magnificent ruler." 

"You come from the Eastern land?" Colt asked

"Why, of course. I am a Burmecian, am I not? Oh, but forgive me, in Oeilvert I understand that the world to the East and even the world on your own continent is a mystery, for you never really want to leave." 

"I suppose…" Colt remarked, voice trailing off. 

It was true he really knew very little of the world outside Oeilvert, but he was not one to yern to stay there. Though his plans were to keep his comfortable life in Oeilvert, as he said, he wanted more. 

"Well…" The Burmecian continued, "I hail from the great kingdom of Burmecia, land of rain." 

"Land of rain?" Colt repeated

"Yes, my friend, it is always raining in the land of Burmecia but no one minds. The climate is quite nice and we have grown accustomed to it." 

Colt was listening intently to the Burmecian's questions and stories but after a good time the fact came to him he really was unsure of this person, for he did not know his name or what he did and he surmised it would be in his own interest to get these questions out of the way before continuing with their discussion about the world he's never known. 

"Excuse me, sir. But I know naught your name nor the type of person you are, and though I know you are a man of excellent stature and you mean well I would feel much better if I knew your name and then we may continue with our individual stories." 

The Burmecian cracked a grin once more. 

"Ah, of course. I cannot believe I have overlooked such details in the amount of time we have been conversing. I am Sesom… what I do for my meals may be considered questionable but I get along just fine." 

"So, you are not a part of the Burmecian Royal Guard?" 

"No, I am not. I was never able to muster enough strength in battle for such an honorable position. However, I doubt you made many friends in the empire of Burmecia the other day." 

Colt saw a flash of the hulking Burmecian fly through his mind… He remembered the blood flying everywhere… Within a second it was gone and he snapped back to consciousness. 

"They should have not put one of their soldiers in the match if they did not want to suffer the consequences." Colt remarked, taking a swig of his beer

"Do you always hold your skills on the battlefield in such high regard?" 

Colt was taken aback by this statement but realized that his own remark was rather immodest. 

"Nay, that was not what I meant. I believe that there is truly someone watching over me, or else I would have been decimated by any one of those warriors." 

"You come equipped with firearms… Not often you see them in La Selva I believe…"

"Do they have a large assortment of firearms on the Eastern continent?" wondered Colt

"No, they do not. Pity, wars would be so much more violent… Just what that pompous captain of the Burmecian Royal Guard wants…" muttered Sesom

"The one who admitted his soldier to the fight?" 

"Aye." Confirmed Sesom

"You know the captain?" 

"Yes. I met him once at a banquet for those who enforced the law across Burmecia." 

"You're law enforcement of some sort?" Colt asked

"I was, my friend. Now I am retired and have demoted myself to less lawful ways of making a living… But let us not dwell on that subject." 

"Very well… However… Why is the Burmecian Royal Guard sending soldiers through La Selva? Who would want to come to this God-forsaken place? I heard something about a place called Ispen and something about training." 

"That is probably true. They are probably trekking to the castle Ispen." 

"Out of curiosity… What is Ispen?" 

Sesom grew a look of astonishment upon his face. 

"You don't know of the castle Ispen?" 

"Should I?" 

Sesom shook his head with distraught. He had not known that this boy, Colt, knew so little about even his own continent. 

"Ispen is a castle to the west of here… Many armies take men there to train them. Ispen is a castle mainly for monks, however these monks have a very unique fighting style… Very good in hand-to-hand combat, they are. They are not seen very often outside this continent." 

"Are they persecuted in other lands?" 

"That is rumored to be the case… But I am no scholar… I do not keep up with many current events, you'll have to forgive me." 

"It is no problem… I suppose I shall find out myself someday." 

"I suppose…" Sesom's voice then trailed off as he then gazed into the sky, looking at the sun, "It's late. I must be returning to my quarters. Tomorrow I will find you and we can talk more." 

"Very well." Colt agreed

So Sesom did as he had said and retired to his hotel for the night. Colt, however, felt the need to tour the cities high points. After all, he had just been caught up in the God forsaken arena for the majority of his stay in La Selva so he wished to see the much more tranquil places to visit. He toured the city. Barters were on every corner and all the buildings looked alike but the city radiated with a sort of uniqueness that he had never before felt. However, as we know all too well, cities always have the cloaks and daggers lurking in the shadows waiting to ambush the occasional passer-by. Colt, unfortunately, became one of these passer-bys as he was walking back to the hotel through a dark alleyway, alit only by the lanterns on either opening of the alley. A man, dressed all in black jumped out at Colt, pressing a knife into his neck. 

"Give me your money, you." The thief said gruffly

Colt slowly turned around. The man must have been new. Sweat rolled down his brow and a look of uncertainty was plastered on his face. 

"Well?! What are you waiting for?! I don't want to kill you. There is no need for bloodshed." The thief screamed in frustration

Colt took it that he did not know the volume of his voice. It was loud and disturbing, not the characteristic of a professional thief at all. Of course, Colt also understood if this man were professional he would already be dead. 

"Why do you protest bloodshed so much? It seems to be the law of the land in this city." Colt retorted as visions of the men he had killed flew through his mind

"All I want… Is…Is… your money…" stammered the thief

Blood and screams just flew through Colt's mind. He despised what he had been put through. 

"Just kill me! I have very little money! You're wasting your time." Colt screamed He, as well, did not notice the volume of his voice. 

Suddenly, a loud packing sound was heard and the thief fell to the ground, knife spinning from his hand. Where he once stood was the captain of the Burmecian Royal Guard. Colt was immediately surprised, but didn't show it. He knew that this man must have been following him… The look in his eye on the day he killed the Burmecian gave it away that this captain wanted him dead. 

"People these days…" The captain remarked shaking his rat like head

"What's the world coming to?" Colt remarked, rather sarcastically

"You seem to attract trouble young man." The captain nodded as he thrust his hand into his pocket. 

Colt became aware of this and moved his own hand to rest on the butt of his pistol. No sooner had he done this than the captain pulled a small sack and piece of paper from his pocket. The sack contained tobacco and he proceeded to roll a cigarette. He then pulled a small box of matches from his pocket and lit it. He took a puff and let the smoke trail out of his nostrils before continuing to talk to Colt. 

"What is your name young man? I have never seen you and I have seen many a powerful warrior." 

Colt replied solemnly, "Colt." 

"Colt, eh?" repeated the captain, "That name is not a name of a resident of La Selva. Where are you from, boy?" 

And again Colt quietly replied, "Oeilvert." 

The captain chuckled a bit. 

"Oeilvert? The small trading city? How quaint." 

He took another puff from the cigarette and then continued. 

"There are not many warriors with your level of prowess on the battlefield, Colt. You are quite a rarity." 

"I'll take that as a compliment." 

"Very well. Before I take my leave, however, I have my sources that inform me you have been conversing with a certain Burmecian named Sesom. Is there a particular reason for such conversations?" 

"He and I are fellow winners of the tournament here in La Selva." 

After this question Colt's interested were peaked. Why would this captain be interested in Sesom? 

"Well as long as that is the extent of your conversations and basis of friendship I will be quite pleased. Now, if you'll excuse me, it is getting quite late and I must take my leave. May the rain only sprinkle upon you as the day grows long." 

Colt's eyebrow shot up. What was that supposed to mean? The captain saw this look and chuckled. 

"It is a Burmecian phrase. It means may you have good luck. Now, good bye." 

He nodded at Colt and then exited the alleyway. 

Colt had many questions in his mind. Why was the captain interested in him and Sesom? Colt thought of all these things as he wandered through the chilly La Selva night back to his hotel. Whence he got there he flopped on the bed, not even bothering to remove his guns or anything of the sort. Shortly after, he fell asleep. 


End file.
